14 May 2007

Reduced to Bones

The cat hasn’t come home. It’s been over a week. The constants in my life are sneaking away one by one. It started in pregnancy when a good night’s sleep gave way to multiple trips to the bathroom. Then there was the baby and everything that went with her. Movies. Dinners. Free arms. Down time. Total focus on any one task- instead of one ear/ eye/ nostril trying to make sure everything is all right with the baby. Then the second baby- ditto all the above. These disappearances came with the (mostly) joy of family.

But now my grandfather and the cat. And my hair is falling out again. It’s amazing, my home is packed with toys, my car jammed with kid stuff, and my schedule filled with parks and playdates and cooking healthy food- yet I’m feeling small. Like I’ve been shaved or peeled. In the middle of so much vibrant and joyous noise, I am less. I’m not used to being less. I’m always the one who is more. The one who is too much, actually. The big wet nosed dog knocking down the skinny old ladies. That’s me. Not these anxious, complaining naked bones. I am grating against everything without my slobber and fur.

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